


A Little Death Never Killed Me

by maria_j_harper



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Boyos working out their emotional issues & shit, Denial of Feelings, Divine intervention?, Enchanted Sex, Fluff, M/M, Magic Revealed, Mebbe a little bit of a crack fic, Pining, Setting is somewhere in the 3rd season I guess, They're not very good at it though, Title is a French pun, dubcon, smut & angst, sue me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 02:26:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13067190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maria_j_harper/pseuds/maria_j_harper
Summary: Merlin felt a small twinge of guilt at lying to Arthur, particularly for using Arthur’s soft spot for people’s mothers against him, but it had to be done.He had been dreaming for the past three nights of an old woman, presumably a sorceress, in a tower, whispering ‘Emrys, come to me. Help me, Emrys.” He had to go, and since magic was involved, he had to go alone.





	A Little Death Never Killed Me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna leave some author's notes in the comments so that you don't have to read them if you don't want to. They'll basically be a little glossary for the things I thought might need a little explaining for some people, like what the fuck is a _Tuatha de Danann_?  
>  Anywho, enjoy!

“Arthur? Um, I’m sorry about this, I really am, but I need a few days off,” Merlin said, fixing Arthur with that intent gaze that Arthur knew meant mountains would give way before he did. “Please don’t argue, I just- I really need some, some time off.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed in concern. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“It’s… I, uh… it’s my mother. She’s sick, very sick, and Gaius made her something that should help, but I have to take it to her. All the way in Ealdor. So if I’m gone for a while, please don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

Arthur nodded gravely. Merlin’s mother had been a kind woman, for all that she watched him like she suspected him of something insidious when he jokingly clapped Merlin on the back or teased him about his ears. “Of course, if your mother needs aid, you must help her. We’ll ride out in the morning.”

Merlin gave him a startled look. “We? Arthur, you can’t come with me!”

“Why not?”

“You have prince-ing to do here in Camelot! Besides, I’m only taking her medicine, not going on a stupid life and death quest the way you do every other weekend! I’ll be perfectly fine on my own.”

“The roads to Ealdor are dangerous, bandits have been about recently. And don’t you tell me often enough how ‘prince-ing’ is really just going hunting and bashing people with swords? Hardly anything important that can’t be put off until we get back, anyway. And as for being fine on your own, I once saw you trip over thin air. You’ll be robbed and left on the road without so much as your shirt without someone better equipped along.” Arthur straightened his shoulders, considering the matter settled.

Merlin looked for a moment as if he was going to argue further, but acquiesced with an exasperated huff. “Fine, but don’t complain to me when you wind up bored out of your mind. Tomorrow, then.”

Arthur nodded, smiling as he watched Merlin leave. He wasn’t entirely sure why he insisted on going with Merlin. If it were just a matter of safety, he would have asked one of his knights to accompany his servant, Leon maybe. It’s just that the idea of having to go an indeterminate number of days without Merlin around to entertain him was one that he found unutterably distasteful. And, well, Merlin always comes along on his ‘stupid life and death quests,’ so it’s only right that he should do the same for him. Maybe it was a poor exchange, but that only made Arthur more determined to pay Merlin back in whatever small ways he could for the sacrifices his manservant has made for him.

As if he could repay him for nearly dying for him on multiple occasions. He remembers how pale Merlin had looked with poison in his veins and being willing to risk his life and the wrath of his father to bring him back, and he remembers how he had tricked him that day on the beach simply to never have to see him like that again.

He shook his head, chiding himself for getting sentimental over a servant. Nevermind how much he enjoyed the give and take of their banter, or how much he sometimes wished they could be closer in station so that they could be closer. Um. Closer friends, that is. Yes, friends.

And if he occasionally found himself being surprised by an appreciation for Merlin’s prominent collarbone, or thick dark hair, or eyes that were midnight blue at the edges but faded lighter toward the center like the dawning of a new day, well obviously that appreciation was purely aesthetic. He was a man of culture, after all, he was allowed to enjoy looking at beautiful things without it meaning more than that.

He decided to sleep now, wanting to savor his bed while he could. Not that there wasn’t also a kind of pleasure in sleeping on the forest floor by the fire, particularly after a well crafted meal for two and good jovial spirit as Merlin kept saying something right before he drifted off and forcing him to come up with something to answer with, and in this way talking about life, the universe and everything until finally Merlin drifted off and filled the night air with soft snoring. He started planning what to pack, mostly to distract himself from thinking about just why he was so eager to spend several days alone together with his manservant.

* * *

Merlin waited until they were about a half hour’s ride from the castle before he whispered a spell that caused a rock to be caught in Arthur’s horse’s shoe. As Arthur got down to get the rock out, he murmured another spell to cause Arthur to fall asleep. The blond man crumbled to the ground almost immediately, and he had to take the horse’s reins before it accidentally stepped on him.

He set Arthur up as comfortably as he could under a tree, and wrote a quick note.

Bandits knocked you out  
Can’t wait for you to wake up, gone on ahead  
Be back in a week or so - M

Merlin felt a small twinge of guilt at lying to Arthur, particularly for using Arthur’s soft spot for people’s mothers against him, but it had to be done.

He had been dreaming for the past three nights of an old woman, presumably a sorceress, in a tower, whispering ‘Emrys, come to me. Help me, Emrys.” He had to go, and since magic was involved, he had to go alone.

He reinforced the sleeping enchantment, making sure he would have a good four hour head start at least, should Arthur choose to chase after him. The fact that Arthur thought he was going to Ealdor would help, hopefully by the time Arthur realized he wasn’t there, he would already be on his way back.

He mounted his horse, and set off. It was a long ride, with Merlin having no way of knowing where he was going except for what he had seen in his dreams and a vague tugging feeling in his gut that led him in what he hoped was the right direction.

Eventually, he tired and rested for the evening. He missed Arthur’s company, but reached within himself to find the warm golden thread of magic that ran between them. The dragon was right to call them two sides of the same coin, however far apart they were, they were one. He could feel that connection now even stronger than he had the first time they had met, when it had pulled taught and stung at his heart even as he’d blazed with fury at the arrogant prince’s treatment of a squire.

So much had changed since then. Arthur had changed. Merlin smiled, pride curling around him happily at the thought that he had perhaps had some part in making Arthur the man he was now.

The warmth of the thread that bound them to each other comforted him now, the steady way it held, never painful or tight, but always there, and firm when he tugged at it. _I’m sorry Arthur, I hope you’ll forgive me, but I don’t know what I’ll find when I get where I’m going, and I can’t put you in danger._ He thought, sending the thought down the thread as if he might be able to reach Arthur across all this distance through thought alone.

He slept. The next day was much the same, but at the end of the third day he spotted something against the horizon that looked like a tower. It would take him at least another day to get there, maybe two, but he felt his spirits lift because he finally knew where he was going.

The next day was slow going, the trails that he thought would lead him closer to the tower twisted and wound and more than once he had to backtrack and go down a different path as it turned out that the trail he’d taken was a switchback and took him in the wrong direction entirely.

Then the bandits pounced. There were six of them, and they all surrounded him at once. The leader stepped forward. “Hand over everything you have, and we’ll kill you quick.”

Merlin grinned and shook his head. “You really don’t want to try that, friend, trust me. I have nothing of value with me, just let me be on my way, and I’ll forget I saw you.”

“If you resist, things will get mighty unpleasant for you, I promise,” the leader said. “I’ve no taste for that sort of thing meself, but somma me lads can get right nasty when the mood strikes. Now, get off your horse, and hand over anything else you got with ya.”

Merlin sighed. “Fine, fine, just a moment-” He thrust his hand out and sent the leader flying ten yards, tumbling ass over teakettle when he landed, and staying where he fell. The rest of the bandits rallied their weapons at Merlin, and he sent three of the spears flying with a flick of his wrist. The other two ran at him, and he tripped them so they landed flat. “I’ll say it again, leave me alone and I’ll forget I saw you, keep bothering me, I’ll show you what a sorcerer is truly capable of. Do you know, I’ve never turned anyone into a frog before? It shouldn’t be that tricky, the real question is what to do with the rest of your body mass, the parts I don’t turn into a frog I mean, because frogs are a lot smaller than people, aren’t they?”

Two of the weaponless bandits listened, but the third went for his spear and threw it. Merlin’s magic caught it and sent it right back at him. The man died quickly. The two he had tripped got up now and both came at him again. He roared an incantation that knocked them back and knocked them out, but their distraction was enough that he didn’t notice the bandit leader rising from where he had fallen until he had already thrown a knife towards Merlin. It caught him in the side, grazing through cloth and flesh and burying itself in a nearby tree. Merlin lashed out with his magic, sending the man flying again. He kicked his horse into motion, leaving the men behind in his wake.

* * *

He was dismounted at the foot of the tower, staring up at a pair of immense doors that must have some mechanism or magic to open them because no man could hope to budge them alone, when he heard something rustle behind him. He turned, magic tingling at his fingertips as he prepared himself for a second confrontation with bandits. Instead, from around the bend in the trail, came a familiar bay steed with a familiar form atop him.

“Arthur?”

“Merlin.” He had expected Arthur to be angry, but all he could see was relief on his prince’s broad, handsome face. “How many times have I told you not to wander off?”

Merlin couldn’t help it, he grinned and shrugged. “Sorry, guess you’re right, I never listen.”

“This is hardly Ealdor, Merlin. Do you just have no sense of direction at all? Although I suppose it’s a good job you don’t or I’d never have caught up. You're embarrassingly easy to track though, so perhaps I would. How could you have left me there like that? Do you know, I woke up to a beggar woman digging through my pockets? A beggar woman, Merlin!”

“Well if she’s stealing from you, she probably needs the money more than you do,” Merlin said with another shrug.

Arthur got down from his horse and punched Merlin in the shoulder. “You couldn’t have waited for me to wake up, you idiot? Do you even know where we are right now? Come on, we can reach Ealdor by next morrow’s eve if we get going now.”

“Ah… about that. This… is actually, where I was going all along. My mom’s fine, as far as I know. Getting on in her years a bit, but the picture of health. Sorry.” He cringed, waiting for more violent retribution for his deceit.

Instead, Arthur merely stared at him. “So… why did you really ask for time off?”

“Because… I got a message. From the woman who lives in this tower. She needs my help.”

“And you lied to me because…?”

“Would you have let me go if I’d told you the truth?”

“Of course not, you don’t know who this woman is or what she wants, it could be a trap. I’d have sent a pair of my knights to investigate it first, at least.”

“And that’s why I lied. By the time we got done arguing about whether I should go or not, it could have been too late.”

“I see. And have you lied to me before?” Arthur’s gaze was steel and ice.

Merlin shook his head. “Only when lives were at stake, and I had no choice. Never about anything important.” He held Arthur’s gaze, imploring him to believe him, because that really was the truth, or as close to it as he dared reveal.

Arthur’s lips parted, but no sound came out. He looked like he’d just taken a spear to the gut, hurt and breathless. “You… you idiot,” he said softly, and then stormed towards the doors, pushing at them forcefully. They swung open. “Come on then.”

Merlin looked after him for a moment, puzzlement chasing guilt, before quickly following. The interior of the tower was vast but spartan, nothing decorated the smooth stone floor or walls, besides the spiralling staircase that promised to take them to the top. Arthur started climbing, Merlin quickly catching up to walk beside him. The dagger wound in his side burned, but he ignored it. There were more important things to worry about.

Like Arthur saying, “So what else have you lied to me about?”

Merlin stammered. “Nothing, nothing important. I told you, only when I had no choice.”

“You had a choice, Merlin.” A moment passed in angry silence. “You don’t really distrust me so much?”

Merlin caught Arthur’s arm so he would stop and look at him, see the sincerity in his face as he shook his head. “I do trust you, I do. But- things are complicated. There are things you wouldn’t understand, if I told you right now. I’ll tell you one day, when the time is right, but… anyway, there’s also the problem of your father.”

“My father?” Arthur cried out, appalled that Uther would have any bearing on his relationship with his manservant.

“You know I sympathise with those with magic. There have been some times when I’ve lied to help the people Uther would have executed. How could I have told you the truth? How could I have asked you to betray your father for my sake?”

Arthur let out a long sigh, covering his face with his hand. “Oh Merlin, you really are hopeless, aren’t you?”

Merlin tried for a hapless grin, though it was a bit weak due to his recent emotional revelations. “Sorry.” He started to climb the stairs again, but Arthur reached out and gripped both his arms tightly.

“No more lies. Once we’ve helped whoever is in this tower, you’re going to tell me everything you’ve kept from me. Is that understood?”

Merlin could only stare and nod. “Yes Sire.”

Arthur let him go, and he continued up the stairs. “Oh, and Merlin?”

“Yes?”

“Lie to me again and I’ll cut out your tongue and feed it to my dogs.”

That spurred Merlin to climb the stairs a good bit quicker.

* * *

They arrived at the top of the tower winded and sore, Merlin moreso. He felt clammy and a bit woozy, but even those sensations were distant, as though they were happening to someone else. He should check his wound, he was probably bleeding. He stopped and pulled up his shirt, wincing at the angry red gash in his side.

“When did that happen?” Arthur demanded, sounding angry again for some reason Merlin couldn’t discern.

“Bandits, wanted my horse. I showed them though, they’ll think twice before messing with me.” He grinned at Arthur. “One of them got me while I was distracted though.”

Arthur held the back of his hand against Merlin’s forehead, and Merlin leaned into the touch because it was cool and soft and Arthur. “Shit, you have a fever. The weapon he attacked you with must’ve been poisoned.”

“It was a dagger, felt like ice. Still feels like ice, so cold it burns, all through my veins. Your hand felt nice though. But maybe that’s just me…” Merlin wondered if the fever was affecting his thought-to-speech filter.

“We have to get you to a physician!”

Merlin shook his head. “It’s okay. The woman who lives here needs my help. Maybe she can help me too. Other help is too far anyway.” He watched Arthur’s face contort with worry and frustration, and he reached out to smooth away the furrows in his brow with his fingers. “Hey, Arthur, it’s going to be okay.”

“This is your own fault, you know.” Arthur was gripping his shoulders, so tight it hurt a bit, but Merlin didn’t mind. It was actually sort of nice, it felt like Arthur’s hands wanted to meld with him, to become even more a part of him than Arthur already was.

“Why’s that?”

“If you’d been with me, the bandit wouldn’t have gotten you. He’d have gotten me, and then you could have made it better. Instead now you’re sick, and I can’t help you.”

“You don’t know that. Bandits would have been harder to deal with if you were there, couldn’t let you see… I’m actually a force to be reckoned with.”

That made Arthur laugh. “I’m sure you are, but that’s not what I mean. I mean, you’re always with me when I go out on quests. No matter how dangerous it is, no matter how many times I tell you to stay home, stay safe, you follow me, because, because…”

“Someone’s got to keep you from getting yourself killed out there, you arrogant prat,” Merlin provided helpfully.

“Yes, precisely. And no matter how dangerous it is, no matter what else happens, we both always come back alive. Call me superstitious, but I’d begun to believe that nothing truly bad could happen to us as long as we were together.” Merlin blinked, and broke into a happy grin that filled his entire face. “Shut up, like I said, it’s silly. But still, I can’t help but feel that this wouldn’t have happened if I’d been there.”

“Well you’re here now, so it can’t kill me. I’ll just have to get better now, because you’re here.” Merlin beamed. He tried to move up the final steps, and swayed. Arthur caught him, and placed a steadying arm around his waist. Merlin leaned against him, slinging an arm over Arthur’s shoulders and letting him take most of his body weight. “Ow… your armor isn’t very comfortable.”

“Sorry Merlin, next time you’re planning on going to a tower and getting poisoned, tell me in advance and maybe I’ll wear something a little more appropriate for half carrying my useless manservant. How’s that sound?” He helped Merlin to the door.

The inside of the room was just as spartan as the rest of the tower, save for a bed in which lay a wizened old crone, sleeping. Arthur helped Merlin to her side, and Merlin let go of Arthur to lean down and take the old woman’s hand. “Hello, I know you called me. I’m here.”

The old woman’s eyes opened slowly, blinking blearily as she tried to focus on the man before her. “Emrys?”

“Yes, that’s me, I’m here. You said you needed my help. What do you need?”

“You have brought the other half of the coin as well. Good. Hail and well met, Arthur Pendragon.”

“Hail and well met, my lady. I’m afraid I don’t know you, what’s your name?”

She smiled slowly. “You may call me Annie. I apologise, I’m not as dramatic as I used to be. If I were younger, I would have brought you here on the backs of giant crows, not made you ride all this long way. I trust you found the tower easily enough though?”

“Yes,” Merlin said.

“She’s a sorceress?” Arthur asked.

“That is what Emrys thought I was, the truth is that I am one of the _Tuatha de Danann._ Much different. I need your help, Emrys. I see what has happened to the Old Religion here in Albion, and I cannot let it happen to my lands. I fear it’s too late to stop it from coming, the romans, they saw to that. But you can help me preserve what is left while we still have time.”

“You could always adapt, the way Brighid did,” Merlin suggested, getting a slow, sneaking suspicion who he was talking to. The woman’s response to Brighid’s name confirmed it.

Her hair went red, her teeth turned vicious, years dropped from her visage like an illusion until she looked younger than Merlin, and she sat up and snarled. “I will slaughter them all before I follow the steps of that cowardly faithless slut!” she roared.

Merlin held up a soothing hand. “Alright, alright, so tell me what you have in mind.”

“You have great power. Give me a small piece, I will use it to keep my memory alive in the hearts of my people.”

“What will you do with it?”

“I will do what I do. Agree, I will take away the poison in your blood.”

“You can do that?”

Annie’s aspect changed again, a bit older now, with long dark hair and a wicked smile that caused Merlin’s pulse to quicken. “I am Chooser of the Slain. I can do many things.”

“Not to interrupt, but what the hell is going on?” Arthur demanded. The woman turned her predatory gaze on Arthur and he wasn’t sure if she were planning on kissing him or eating him. He hoped she would do neither.

Merlin shifted, trying to put himself between her and Arthur. “She wants to use my magic so she can kill people, that’s what’s going on.”

The woman scowled at him. “No one you know. I am death itself, child, you would do well not to vex me. Even Emrys the eternal can suffer from my claws. Help me and I will perhaps forget about your beloved prince the next time he’s caught in the teeth of battle. Or, refuse me and watch my pretty birds feast on his eyes as he rots. Your choice.”

Merlin suddenly blazed with fury and energy, where before he had felt his life seeping from him bit by bit. He put a hand on the woman’s throat. “You will not harm him. I might be younger than you, and you might kill me in the end, but if you touch Arthur I swear I will make you hurt! We have our own grim reaper here, so you will stay well away from the people I care about, or I will personally hunt you down and tear you apart.”

“Promises, promises!” She winked at Arthur. “I see why you like him!” She shifted back to the old woman she was before, suddenly demuring. “I’m sorry, I got carried away, I don’t want to antagonise you. I really do need your help. I know you don’t like me, but in the name of the Old Religion, you will help me, won’t you Emrys?”

Merlin growled in frustration. “Augh, yes, fine. Here, just take it.” He held out his hand. “Take a piece of my magic, let’s get it over with.”

And she was the black haired woman again. “It doesn’t work like that, Emrys. You know how my magic works, don’t you? I deal in death, and while you cannot die, you are capable of having a little death, if you'll pardon my french.” She laughed and rose up out of the bed, naked.

Merlin looked away uncomfortably, blushing. “Yes, but…” he faltered.

She laughed again, and it sent a shiver down his spine. “Somehow though, I doubt that you could really give it to me directly.” Her sly grin made it clear enough that her innuendo was intentional. The provocative hip thrust was just overkill, really. “Therefore, Arthur Pendragon, for the purposes of this ritual and this ritual alone, I name you my champion.” She strode over to Arthur, who was staring at her with a dazed expression that made Merlin both amused and a little jealous. She plucked a crow feather on a cord from thin air and placed it over his head. “This is my talisman, wear it until the ritual is complete, then take it off and leave it here. Side effects may include nihilism, bloodlust, and an affinity for crows. Please call your physician if you have an erection for more than five hours.” And with that, she kissed him aggressively enough that when she came away, his lip was bloodied.

Then suddenly she was a flock of crows, and, in a flurry of black wings, disappeared out the window.

“What the hell just happened?” Arthur said, voice hoarse, not seeming to care that he basically just repeated himself.

“We just met the Morrigan, and our hearts are still beating in our chests. That… doesn’t happen a lot,” Merlin replied. He put a hand on his side where the dagger wound was, and felt nothing. He lifted up his shirt and found that instead of a bleeding wound, he had sealed up scar tissue that looked well on its way to mended. “Oh. I guess she meant it when she said she’d fix it if I agreed.”

“What’s a Morrigan?” Arthur asked. “Besides terrifying.”

Merlin let out a small chuckle. “Celtic goddess of war and death.”

“Oh. So… she wants your… magic?”

Merlin winced. “Yes. That… was something I was going to tell you once this was over with. I have magic. Had it since I was born. I didn’t know how to use it, or what it was for until I came to Camelot, but then I met the dragon under the castle-”

Arthur hadn’t been responding at all the way Merlin had expected him to, just staring at him with a dazed expression, with his gaze wandering occasionally away from his face and then meandering back, but now he interrupted. “There’s a dragon under the castle?”

“Not anymore, I let him out. Sorry about that, by the way, but to be fair your dad did trap him there so you can’t really blame him for being a bit mad. I was also the one who made him stop attacking Camelot though, so all’s well that ends well, isn’t it? But anyway, as I was saying, the dragon told me what my magic was for, he told me it was for helping you, because you’re going to be a great king, and you’re my destiny, and we’re two sides of the same coin, whatever that means, and please say something because I’m babbling and I think I’m forgetting how to breathe.”

Arthur took a step forward and placed a hand firmly on Merlin’s shoulder. “Breathe.”

Merlin obeyed, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. “Okay, I’m better now I think.” He winced. “I think that poison really got to my head, I’m still not feeling totally myself.”

Arthur grimaced slightly, but nodded before Merlin really had time to puzzle over why and spoke. “So I’m supposed to be the Morrigan’s champion now? Why… what ritual does she want us to do? Do we have to fight each other? What did she mean “little death?” I won't kill you, Merlin, I won't.”

Merlin shook his head, turning away and praying to everything divine that Arthur wouldn’t notice his blush. “No… I. I think there’s been a misunderstanding. You don’t have to… Here, give me the talisman, I’ll… take care of it.”

Arthur gave Merlin a stern look. “No more lying, remember?”

“I’m not lying! I’m just not telling you something because it’s embarrassing and clearly out of the question for a million reasons, so there’s no point.” Merlin fidgeted.

Arthur gave a soft chuckle. “Didn’t you say I should try to understand the Old Religion? Here I am asking, so help me understand.”

Merlin covered his face. Yes, okay, he could do it like this. If his eyes were covered, he could pretend that it wasn’t Arthur he was talking to, or if it was that he wasn’t grimacing and pulling away from Merlin as Merlin was sure he would do. “Ohhh-kay. The old gods are very physical. Blood, food, sex, they like it all. The Morrigan is no exception. The talisman seems to just sort of be a receptacle for magic, which would be taken from me in much the same way energy is given and taken in… I guess you could call it the oldest ritual.” He chuckled.

“Oh.” Arthur’s tone isn’t as horrified as he had feared, just kind of stunned, with a hint of _well that makes sense now._ “So she was going to… conduct the ritual with you, but… then decided she wanted me to do it?”

“More like she decided that I wanted you to. We… remember the dragon? He told me we have this bond, that our fates are tied. She saw the bond, because gods can see that shit, and figured it meant we were romantically bonded as well.” Merlin risked a peek from through his fingers. Arthur was a lot closer to him than he remembered him being. Shit. He looked into Arthur’s eyes, and the hunger that waited there almost made him fall over. As it was, he staggered backward, and the back of his legs hit the side of the stupid bed and then he did fall, plopping down on the soft springy surface.

“Oh,” Arthur said again, and Merlin saw how tense he was, like he was before a tournament, all frenetic energy and nowhere to put it, barely holding himself back from starting a fight before it even started because of the buildup of pressure from every direction. He fingered at the feather around his neck. “But she was mistaken?”

Merlin frowned. “What?”

Arthur closed his eyes and shook his head. “That kiss of hers did something to me. I, I want…” And then suddenly his hand was on Merlin’s jaw and his lips were on Merlin’s mouth. The kiss was rushed, and their noses glanced against each other before finding the right angle, but it was all desperate need and heat and Merlin couldn’t help but give in. Because Arthur was kissing him.

He broke away for a moment before returning back to Arthur’s ardent lips. He darted his tongue out to moisten their lips and Arthur responded by thrusting forward with his own tongue and claiming Merlin’s mouth. A small whimper found its way out of Merlin’s throat, and he succumbed to the heady pleasure of Arthur’s mouth on his. He felt the bed dip to one side as Arthur placed a knee by his thigh, and with a firm but gentle hand he pushed Merlin back onto the bed, still following him with his lips.

Merlin found himself lain on his back, with Arthur’s heavy presence right there above him, still kissing. The hand that had been on his jaw drifted up into his hair and the other made explorations along his chest that made him want more. Sense was quickly being drowned out by desire, but now a bit of it came bubbling to the surface of his mind.

“Arthur, Arthur we shouldn’t. You're not... You don't actually... I can’t, Arthur. Not like this.” He pulled away from Arthur and shook his head. Despite the yearning in his gut that told him to give in, he knew that this wasn’t real. Arthur didn’t really want him, not him, he was just enchanted and Merlin was there. It broke his heart to pull away, but he knew, he knew it would break his heart more to continue.

Arthur wasn’t deterred though, and began mouthing at Merlin’s neck and collarbone. “Then like how?” He murmured, and Merlin couldn’t help the way his hips hitched upward at the sound of his voice thick with desire and the sensation of those perfect lips moving across his skin. He felt his will to protest crumbling with every insistent motion that Arthur made.

“Arthur…” he pleaded, although he no longer knew what for.

“Gods, I love how you say my name,” Arthur confessed, and his hand went up Merlin’s tunic and Merlin was gone. He pulled his arms out of his jacket as Arthur pushed up his tunic, gasping as his chest was left bare to the cool air, but then Arthur was there, his solid weight above him and it felt so right, except for the damnable armor still uncomfortable and in the way.

Merlin grasped at the hem of Arthur’s chainmail, and thinking of the complex processes of removing armor, growled in frustration. Arthur pulled away slightly to look him in the eye, which meant that he saw Merlin’s eyes glow gold just before his armor clattered to the floor messily. Merlin tensed, blushed, and the armor assembled itself into a neat pile against the wall by the bed.

“Merlin, you-”

“Later.” This time it was Merlin who leaned up and pressed a hungry kiss into Arthur’s lips. Arthur quickly responded, melding his lips to Merlin’s. His fingers traveled down Merlin’s waist to the lacings of his trousers and Merlin’s breath caught in his throat as he allowed Arthur to tug them downward. Arthur rose when the trousers were caught on his boots, quickly pulling at the offending garments until Merlin was stripped bare.

Arthur just stood there for a moment, gazing down at Merlin with his lips slightly parted, blue eyes wide and staring. Merlin knew what he was seeing, his long skinny body sprawled out awkwardly on the bed, cock half hard already, hair probably a mess. He squirmed slightly under Arthur’s gaze, ducking his head away and blushing. “Um,” he muttered.

“Gods,” Arthur breathed. “You’re a work of art, Merlin.” He fell back down over Merlin with almost helpless urgency, lips seeming intent on mapping his entire chest with kisses. Merlin let out a small noise, feeling arousal draw his body tight with longing at the soft attention. He wanted more, he wanted everything Arthur had to give him.

Not wanting to use magic in case it made Arthur stop again, Merlin pulled at the shirt Arthur wore the old fashioned way, clumsy fingers struggling to divest him of it until Arthur aided the endeavor by lifting his arms for him. He heard Arthur’s boots hit the floor one after the other, and assumed he’d kicked them off. His hands moved down to push at Arthur’s trousers, and he felt Arthur shift to kick them off as well.

Gods. Arthur was naked, above him, kissing him. The feather around Arthur’s neck tickled his chest, but he ignored it easily. He clung to Arthur’s sides with his hands, fingers maybe gripping a little too tight, but how else could he assure himself that this was really real? Not that it could be a dream, not really, not with Arthur’s day long stubble rubbing pricklish-ticklish and perfect on his neck as he kissed the length of it, or with the late afternoon light coming in a little too bright from the window of the tower and casting Arthur’s sturdy frame in gold.

Merlin trembled, wide eyed and uncertain, but too carried away to think of anything else as he felt Arthur’s cock rub down against his own. He was almost impossibly hard, but then so was Merlin at this point. The sensation of the soft, warm flesh of Arthur’s cock and groin against his own drew a long moan from Merlin, and an answering groan of pleasure from Arthur.

Hearing Arthur’s voice making those kinds of sounds because of him seemed to flip a switch in Merlin, and suddenly it wasn’t enough to just lay back and enjoy it, he needed to drive Arthur as mad with pleasure as he was, needed it with a fierce kind of hunger he didn’t know he possessed. He hooked a leg up over Arthur’s hip and arched up into him, relishing the long, desperate sound that spilled from Arthur’s mouth. His hand reached down between their bodies, long nimble fingers wrapping around his own cock and Arthur's both, stroking clumsily.

He bent his head and nuzzled at Arthur’s ear, then nibbled at its shell, and he felt Arthur’s lips moving against his skin in an effort to say something that came out rough and barely more than a whisper, and Merlin was too focused on other things to understand him.

“Huh?”

“Merlin, Gods, Merlin.” Arthur said, and looked down at him with something like wonder. The way he said it made Merlin feel both more vulnerable than even his nakedness did and thoroughly wanted. Then Arthur kissed him again and he felt the pull of desire urging them both onwards, inescapable as a riptide, catching them up and making them both dizzy with need.

Merlin rolled his hips again, and the friction of their cocks rubbing into each other fed into the heat. Arthur rolled his hips right back, sending them into a hungry push-pull rhythm through the circle of Merlin's hand that sent them gasping and shivering against each other. Merlin broke from their kiss to nibble at Arthur’s neck and then on impulse drew a section of skin into his mouth and sucked, playing at it with his teeth and tongue as he did so so that when he released Arthur was left with a dark red welt on his otherwise perfect skin.

Arthur gave a low, hungry growl that sent shivers along Merlin’s spine and sparks up into his groin where the rhythm of their hips was quickening to an almost blinding pace. He apparently took Merlin’s advance as permission to mark him right back, and gods below the wet slide of Arthur’s tongue on his neck was heaven. Merlin uttered a fragile, vulnerable sound as teeth dug lightly into his pulse point and he surrendered completely to the man above him.

Merlin’s free hand grasped helplessly at Arthur’s back, skating over the broad smoothness of him restlessly. He keened wantingly, hips straining for more friction, more heat, more Arthur against him. Arthur uttered a strained sound, and Merlin tried to tell him not to hold back, but all he could manage was Arthur’s name. Maybe that was enough though, because Arthur’s body pressed harder into his own, and individual sensations began to melt together until Merlin felt as if his whole body was covered in heat and pleasure, and every rub or lick or touch was felt everywhere at once.

He clung to Arthur as he came, letting pleasure roar through him and send him shuddering and sobbing out cries as it went. He was dimly aware of Arthur giving a few more thrusts before following him into orgasmic bliss, hips rolling gently with his climax and then stilling.

They lay together for a moment, Arthur pressing lazy kisses into Merlin's skin. Slowly, the kisses became less idle and more intent, and Merlin felt Arthur hardening again against his hip. He gave a soft whimper, not sure if he was ready to go again so soon. Arthur turned his face up to meet Merlin's gaze, and Merlin saw in his eyes a kind of hungry confusion. “I… I don't… I'm itching for you, under my skin, but I don't actually know what I want. Merlin. Tell me. Tell me what to do.”

Merlin reached out to touch Arthur’s face softly with his hand, and then reached out with his magic, seeking to sense what the Morrigan had done to his prince. Her magic felt like the soft petals and sharp thorns of a rose, a flock of crows taking flight, and the taste of blood. There was the energy tie to the necklace, and there was the tie to his bond with Arthur- he frowned at that. Their bond was theirs and no one else’s, she shouldn’t be allowed to touch it. Arthur distracted him from this line of thought when his mouth found one of Merlin’s nipples, and it suddenly became much harder to focus on his magic. Nevertheless, he saw the way the talisman thrummed as he gasped out his enjoyment into Arthur’s ear, and understood.

“You- more, we need more,” Merlin gasped.

“Yes,” Arthur agreed, nuzzling Merlin’s chest and rutting his eager cock against his thigh.

Merlin’s eyes flashed and then there was a jar of salve on the bed next to them. He’d made it himself, and practiced with it a few times. “This’ll help.”

Arthur glanced between Merlin and the jar and slowly sat back on his heels. “I… I don't think…” Merlin frowned, heart dropping at the idea of Arthur having doubts now, but then he continued, “I think you’d better do it, I’m too… I don’t want to hurt you.”

Merlin sat up and pulled Arthur into a tender kiss. For a moment he worried about betraying too much of his feelings, but pushed it aside. If this was the one time he could have what he wanted, he would have as much as he could. He dipped his fingers into the salve and brought them between his legs. Whether it was the sensation of his own fingers slowly teasing himself open, or the hungry and awed look on Arthur’s face as he watched him do so that caused arousal to pulse back into his cock wasn’t certain, though if he had to he’d place his bets on the latter.

He started with one finger, but fairly quickly added a second, breath coming in soft gasps as he got his opening loose and slick. He hitched his hips upward as he added a third finger, and Arthur uttered a soft groan. The prince looked wrecked, naked and mussed, his pupils blown from arousal, arm braced on the bed as though it were the only thing preventing him from falling forward back onto Merlin. 

Merlin decided he’d had enough prep, and spread his legs invitingly. It didn’t seem to quite register with Arthur, who still just stared until Merlin reached out to him, tugging at the arm he had braced against the bed. “Well come on then, fuck me.”

Arthur let himself be pulled forward, settling over Merlin with eager relief. He kissed at Merlin’s neck up to the back of his ear. “Gods, Merlin, please,” he murmured. Before Merlin could ask ‘please what?’ he was kissing his mouth and running his hands over Merlin’s body like he wanted to commit the shape of him to memory.

Merlin could feel Arthur’s member seeking entrance, and shifted the angle of his hips to help him find it. Arthur rushed in, and without thinking, Merlin’s magic moved to hold him back. “Hey! Start slow.”

Arthur kissed Merlin’s jaw apologetically, and Merlin’s magic released him. He thrust in slower this time, and Merlin sighed happily. He rolled his hips up into Arthur’s next thrust, revelling in the sensation of Arthur inside him. He reached out and traced his fingers up Arthur’s firm abdomen, out along his broad shoulders. He leaned up and pressed a kiss to Arthur’s collarbone, purely because it was beautiful and there and he wanted to. He touched his fingers to the back of Arthur’s hand and guided it gently to his own cock.

Arthur took his cue and stroked Merlin in time with his next thrust, drawing a groan of pleasure from the man beneath him. He set a slow but steadily building pace, making Merlin moan with each thrust. Merlin could see though that he was still exercising too much control, being too careful. This wasn’t what Arthur needed. He shifted, even though his body protested when it lost its point of connection with Arthur. “Here.” He turned over onto his hands and knees. “Don’t hold back.”

Arthur’s hands went to his hips, caressing him and then gripping him firmly. When he thrust in again to Merlin’s embrace, there was no hint of hesitation and Merlin gasped. It didn’t take long for Arthur to begin fucking Merlin with a kind of feral ardor that made Merlin’s arms tremble as they held him up. Arthur was hitting something deep inside him that was every bit as primal as whatever had been tapped inside of Arthur by magic. It was a hungry part of himself that said _yes, fuck me, this is what I’m for, fuck me forever._ If it had been anyone besides Arthur, it might have frightened him how easily his body submitted to rough use, how right it felt to be fucked like this, but it didn’t.

Arthur changed his angle, hitting Merlin’s sweet spot with each thrust now, and Merlin keened out with pleasure. Gods, he was overwhelmed. He closed his eyes and saw fireworks, bursting with every slap of skin against skin as Arthur took him. He gave himself over to Arthur, to the pleasure of the moment, rocking back into his thrusts with just as much eagerness as Arthur had thrusting in. It took them both longer to reach their climax this time, but Merlin didn’t mind. He felt as though he needed this just as much as Arthur, as though the enchantment were somehow infectious, and he let pleasure roll through him in ebbs and flows until finally he found the cresting crescendo of sensation that made him cry out so loudly he felt his voice strain under the force of it. He kept himself going until Arthur stilled behind him with a couple finishing thrusts and collapsed down onto the bed.

He lay there panting, legs, arms, and back sore, ass throbbing with a pleasant ache. Arthur slowly settled down over him like a warm weighted blanket, and Merlin sighed happily.

Arthur traced Merlin’s neck gently with two fingers. Then he sat up suddenly, almost violently, and Merlin looked around in time to see him yanking the talisman off and throwing it to the floor. When Arthur saw Merlin looking, he flushed. Merlin sat up slowly. “Are you alright?”

Arthur scratched his neck, almost shyly. “I think I’m meant to be asking you that.”

“Yes. I mean I could use some water, and a nap, but I’m more than alright. What about you though? Magic isn’t always gentle.”

Arthur’s gaze flicked away. “I feel fine.”

“Right, of course you do, Your Highness,” Merlin said sarcastically as he moved underneath the covers of the bed. “Come here, you probably need a nap more than I do.” He lifted up the covers for Arthur to climb in.

“I’ll get us some water.”

Before Arthur could get up, Merlin had summoned a waterskin into his hand. Then he cringed. “Oh, sorry. You’ve probably had enough unlawful magic for one day, haven’t you?”

Arthur took the waterskin. “Remarkably, no. I’m not really bothered by it.” His eyes met Merlin’s with a strange intensity that Merlin didn’t know what to do with. “I suppose it’s because I trust you.”

Merlin beamed, and after Arthur had taken a drink, he finished off the waterskin. “Good, because you can trust me when I tell you you’ll want to sleep this off. Now come here.”

Arthur obliged. The bed was a little narrow for two people lying side by side, and they wound up tangled together with Merlin’s head on Arthur’s chest and Arthur’s arm around his waist. Maybe in other circumstances they would have had a moment of awkward uncomfortableness, but magical exhaustion sent them quickly into the embrace of sleep.

* * *

Merlin woke to the sound of movement and the absence of warmth at his side. Arthur was sitting up and searching for his clothes. They had folded themselves next to his armor. Apparently Merlin’s magic had a mind of its own when he lost control like that… it was probably a good thing the talisman had been there to catch most of the spillover.

Merlin lazily watched Arthur dress, before rising to dress himself. He didn’t miss the way Arthur went to look out the window rather than risk looking at him, and ignored the pang of pain that lanced through his heart. Once he was dressed, he cleared his throat. “Shall we get going for Camelot, then?”

“Don’t be ridiculous Merlin, it’ll be dark soon. We should make use of the tower while we can. You go ahead and get some more sleep, I’ll see if I can’t find something for us to eat,” Arthur said, eyes still on the forest outside.

“Alright, fine.” Merlin went back to the bed and tucked himself under the covers. He rolled over onto his side so he wouldn’t have to look at Arthur either. “We’ll ride at first light in the morning then.”

“Yes.” 

He listened as Arthur left. It took him some time to get back to sleep.

* * *

The Morrigan hadn’t lied about the bloodlust, and Arthur was glad that rabbits and the odd pheasant were all he came across on his hunt. He knew that there was no way they could use everything he killed, and wound up burying a couple of rabbits in the ground before returning back to the tower. It was well and truly dark when he got back, and he set up a small fire outside before he set to cooking a couple of the rabbits. Then he scrounged around in the underbrush for some of the edible greenery Merlin had shown him because he knew the man would chide him about his diet if he didn’t.

Gods, what was happening to him?

He... It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed his tendency to smile fondly when Merlin called him ‘prat,’ it was just, he’d given that part of himself a very stern talking to about what sorts of feelings were appropriate when it came to one’s manservant, and had thought the matter settled. Yet it seemed that without his knowledge and entirely without his permission, those feelings had just kept growing. Maybe the dam would have broken on its own in time, but then there had been that strange woman who was equal parts alluring and terrifying and the kiss that set his blood on fire and suddenly his denial had evaporated like mist.

He would probably need Merlin to repeat some of the things he’d said in that tower after that kiss, it was hard to focus on anything that wasn’t his intense desire to know what Merlin’s lips felt like. They felt like silk, only better. Silk that was warm and pliable and just a bit damp so that they slid against his own lips just perfectly.

It was over now though, wasn’t it? He’d left the talisman on the windowsill before he’d left. Merlin… he seemed like he enjoyed it, but what if that had just been the Morrigan’s enchantment at work? Or the remnants of fever in his brain? Gods, he had certainly protested enough at the beginning, why hadn’t Arthur listened? Even if he had eventually given in, it was only for the ‘ritual,’ nothing more. Arthur desperately wanted to tell him “Next time I’ll do better,” but he knew with aching certainty there could be no next time.

He had betrayed the best friendship he’d ever had. For a moment he was so angry with himself he could have screamed.

Merlin had been right not to trust him. What would he have done if he’d found out about his magic while still in his father’s halls? He couldn’t say, but he knew now that if he did anything to harm Merlin further, he would gladly submit himself to the executioner’s blade.

He waited until the rabbits were cooked, and brought the meal up the stairs to the chamber where Merlin slept. He looked at his restful form under the covers, a little reluctant to rouse him from his peaceful slumber. Shaking that feeling away, he cleared his throat. “Merlin.”

Merlin sat up, blinking at him blearily and he felt something warm tug almost painfully at his heart. “Arthur?”

He offered forward one of the wooden plates he’d filled with food. “Here, I made dinner. I’m afraid it won’t compare to yours, but it’s edible.”

Merlin’s face cracked into a lopsided grin. “Careful, that almost sounded like a compliment.” He rose and took the plate before sitting back on the bed. “Thanks.”

“I’m sorry,” Arthur blurted.

“Oh come on, I’m sure your cooking isn't that bad.” Merlin grinned up at him again, and for a moment Arthur was tempted to take the opportunity Merlin was offering him to pretend that nothing had happened. But no, this had to be addressed.

“No. I- I took advantage of you.” he fixed his eyes to the floor. “I treated you as no prince should treat anyone, let alone his servant, and especially not his friend. I… will understand if you’d like to find some other employment. I will write you a letter of recommendation, if you like. It’ll have to be mostly lies, how efficient and skilled you are, but there’s nothing to be done for it.”

Merlin snorted at that, and when Arthur risked a look up at his face, it was pure amusement. “Trying to get rid of me again, are you? How many times do I have to tell you? You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not. As for the rest of it, it’s really alright. You were under the influence of forces beyond your control, I completely understand.” His voice faltered towards the end there, and his smile dropped away into something sad.

Fuck.

Arthur clenched his fists, wanting to punch himself. “It’s not fine, you tried to stop me, I should have listened.”

Merlin turned away, and said something too quiet for Arthur to make out completely, but sounded almost like “I really didn’t mind.”

“What?”

Merlin cleared his throat and spoke louder, face going pink. “I just mean, I wasn’t really trying to stop you once we got going, was I? In fact I was pretty enthusiastic about the whole thing, if you’ll remember.”

Arthur let out a long sigh, breath he hadn’t known he was holding leaving his lungs as he watched Merlin’s flushed face. A wild piece of hope flared and fluttered to life in his chest. “Merlin.” He waited until Merlin’s eyes looked up into his. “Tell me again about that destiny thing you were babbling on about. It sounded important, but I must confess, I wasn’t really listening.”

Merlin looked away from him, eyes going to the window. “The dragon told me that you were going to be the king to unite Albion, to unite the old ways with the new, to make magic safe again. He said that my fate was bound to yours. I told him I hated you, but he said one half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole, and he was right.” He glanced back at Arthur, and his eyes were wet. “So even though I’m a lying sorcerer, you can’t really hate me either, can you?”

“Merlin… you really are an idiot, aren’t you?”

A small bemused smile crossed Merlin’s face and he startled backward as though taken aback. “What?”

“No, truly, I don’t think I’ve met anyone so idiotic in my life. You think I’m angry because you lied? I’m not. I’m angry because of your damn hypocrisy, you git.”

Merlin shook his head. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“Of course you don’t, you’re an idiot.” Arthur sat beside Merlin on the bed and turned towards him, their legs brushing together at an angle. “How many times have you lectured me, telling me how I don’t have to be alone? That I have friends? To be a prince is to carry the weight of the kingdom on your shoulders. There are days when I think I might crumble under the weight of it. But then there you are, babbling and worrying but never losing faith, and I don’t even have to tell you my secrets or my woes or my fears, you find them without even trying and you insist, bloody insist on sharing them with me. I never have to carry anything alone, you won’t bloody let me, but it’s alright because somehow you always have a smile and a joke or a jab to make it all feel lighter. And all this time, you’ve had your own burdens, and you’ve been carrying them alone.” Arthur stopped to take a breath and shook his head.

“You shouldn’t have had to carry it alone. You should have known you could share it with me. I should have been able to see it. It’s not right, or fair, that you couldn’t let me.”

Merlin gaped at him. “Oh,” he finally said.

“Yes, oh,” Arthur told him, still thoroughly annoyed. “Now I should really get some proper rest before we head back for Camelot tomorrow. I don’t suppose I could convince you to stay here or something until it was safe? No, of course not, we’ll simply have to come up with a plan on our way back tomorrow. You’ll never be safe in Camelot as long as my father reigns, so the only thing to do is find a way to force him to step down as king. Even then though, it’ll take time. If I make magic legal overnight, people will think I’ve been bewitched. I haven’t been, have I? I feel bewitched sometimes.”

“Y’do?” Merlin asked, still staring at him with a slightly disbelieving smile beginning to play at his lips.

“Well yes, but then I call you an idiot and it makes me feel much better because I was never able to call Sophia an idiot, was I? So for all that I might feel bewitched around you, it’s probably just the normal mundane sort of bewitchment that happens when your best friend has alabaster skin and eyes like the dawning of a new day and bloody ridiculous ears that somehow become more and more endearing daily.” Arthur looked away from Melin, stating these things as matter-of-factly as he could.

“What? Arthur, this is going to be one of those times where I need you to say exactly what you mean, because I really want to be certain that I understand.” Merlin’s hand lighted warm and strong on his shoulder, and when Arthur turned to look at him, he saw the same wild little bit of hope that refused to go out now that it was lit in his chest reflected back at him.

“Oh come on, Merlin, you’re not actually that big of an idiot, are you? I’m saying that whatever that crazy crow bitch saw between us, she was right. I’m in love with you, it seems, though it certainly took me time enough to realize it.” Merlin still just stared at him, and he felt a cold gust of uncertainty make the hope that had given him the strength to say all that flicker. “Do you not…? Aren’t you, too? Is… was the dragon wrong?”

Then suddenly Merlin was on top of him, hugging him so tight Arthur felt the beginnings of bruises forming on his arms, but then soft, better-than-silk lips crashed down on his with fervor, and it felt like somewhere in his heart something that he hadn’t even known was out of place was now right where it should be, so good and right that he laughed for the joy of it.

Merlin stopped kissing him, and instead nuzzled his body against Arthur’s own, resting his head sideways in the crook of his neck, chin tilted up slightly so his lips brushed lightly against Arthur’s ear. Arthur could definitely get behind this, especially when Merlin’s lips began to move and the sound of his voice so low and close made him want to squirm.

“I’ve loved you from the moment I met you, you great prat,” he murmured. “And if this is an illusion or a dream, please remind me to kill the man that wakes me from it, because too good to be true, or not… _Arthur_.”

Arthur turned towards him, their faces too close for him to see anything else besides those gorgeous fathomless eyes. He waited for Merlin to say something else, but he seemed to feel that he’d said enough to get across what he meant, and Arthur thought he understood, so he closed the fractional distance between them and kissed him.

“ _Merlin_ ,” he answered, in the same tone.

The next day as they rode back, Arthur complained copiously that Merlin hadn’t bloody let him sleep whenever he made a small mistake, to which Merlin replied that Arthur hadn’t seemed to be complaining at the time, and they both agreed that stopping for lunch and a shag was an unavoidable travel delay. Arthur could get used to this.


End file.
